I had an alarming thought today.
I was observing people in church during the offertory song and I was noticing a lot of women whom I've known most of my life who have reached middle age or beyond. I was thinking about how beautiful they are. I was thinking of how motherly they are, and how different they probably feel now as they finish out their 40s than they did when they were young 20-somethings, freshly engaged, married, beginning their families. Their faces are aged, but they also have a beautiful, shiny wisdom about them that made me think, "the 40s look like a lovely age to be."
And then I thought about my daughters and about my upcoming birthday, when I will be turning 35, and how I've been so much enjoying my 30s. That's when the alarming thought struck me: when I'm 45 (not old,) Anja will be 20. 2-0! TWENTY!!! That is only ten years away!!! THAT'S PRACTICALLY TOMORROW!!!
I broke out in a sweat. I looked around me at all my girls, behaving like angels, no longer in diapers, no longer napping, all speaking rational (or at least semi-rational) thoughts, and I thought, THIS IS IT. THE BABY YEARS ARE OVER.
Talk about a panic.
Now, two things I should mention: One thing is that even with it's unique challenges, I have been seriously enjoying this phase of parenting. Even though I complain about it, that's mostly because I want to remember it all. Also, if I blog about the less-than-perfection moments, I'm not doomed to look back at my blog in ten years (TEN YEARS. BECAUSE THAT'S ALL I HAVE UNTIL ADULTHOOD FOR MY CHILDREN. TOMORROW.) and sob my brains out over missing the perfection of the small people who once surrounded me and now are free adults no longer caught in my clutches. Another thing to mention is that we aren't quite to the age where we can actually declare we're done having children. I mean, I'm turning 35, not 55. Nothing is for certain. So the door is not closed, but at the same time, looking at our life (which sometimes resembles a dumpster fire, specifically one filled with dollar bills) it's at times hard to imagine having more.
So, I don't always think automatically of Ingrid as my "last" baby, because who knows. I do, however, soak her up as if she is my last because... well, who knows. And with her being four and Anja being ten, I feel like I'm in this storybook land of bliss where I have all little kids, everyone is at home every night, they still like me to read aloud to them, we still do art together, we eat our meals together, they still pretend play and dress up, and [except when they're trying to kill each other] it's all so beautiful and perfect.
You can see why I was so terrified this morning when I realized that in only ten years, when I still feel like I'll be in a "prime of my life" age, my oldest daughter and possibly the second-oldest will likely be MOVED OUT OF MY HOUSE FOREVER. I just don't know how to handle this realization. It's so frightening. It's so different. It's so SOON.
Martin has started back at his second job, which takes him away on weekend nights. This is good for everyone--it's a job where he has a lot of free time to get his grad school work done, and the rest of us have a couple evenings of girls' nights together. And since I don't have a baby who needs to be paced through the house in the evenings, and since all the girls go to bed in the same room at the same time, and since we all can sit and listen to a read-aloud (even chapters upon chapters in a row because we just don't want to stop reading!) these evenings together have been pretty enjoyable.
Despite the challenges (and each of these ages definitely has it's challenges, whoo-boy!) this is a pretty good time and I need to remember that because as wonderful as it is, it's just as fleeting. And I know people say this all the time, but then sometimes you're just sitting there humming along to the offertory song and looking lovingly and admiringly at the people around you and you realize--GASP!--nothing is forever!
You'll never get this moment back--LIVE IT UP!